


Minerva's Meddling

by LizzieBowen18



Series: A song of Assassins and Apples (and why the two should never mix) [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassin Auditore siblings, BAMF Desmond Miles, BAMF Maria Auditore, Claudia Auditore is a badass, Desmond is a mess, Ezio is a mess, Federico is confused, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Giovanni is a dad, Hurt Desmond Miles, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Desmond Miles, Not Beta Read, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Tired Ezio, We die like the Auditore bros, because cannon sucks, in that we don't, like a lot of people, people still die, the family which assassinates together sticks together, who sometimes murders people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieBowen18/pseuds/LizzieBowen18
Summary: Dismayed at the fate which will befall the world if Juno gets her way, Minerva offers Desmond an alternative.Grasping onto the last shreds of his sanity Desmond accepts, suddenly finding himself in a place which is simultaneously familiar and foreign...
Relationships: Claudia Auditore da Firenze & Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Desmond Miles, Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Federico Auditore da Firenze, Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Petruccio Auditore da Firenze, Giovanni Auditore da Firenze/Maria Auditore da Firenze
Series: A song of Assassins and Apples (and why the two should never mix) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939213
Comments: 29
Kudos: 184





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> So happy news... I finished my edit/rewrite of this chapter. It went faster than I thought it would if I'm honest, but I'm really pleased with how it turned out.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Graphic descriptions of torture/ death (?)  
> Vomiting  
> Disembodiment  
> *basically Desmond suffers a lot because the plot demanded it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Desmond is used to pain. It has been the currency of his life; what he has traded in since he was a child.

 _Why then does this ache so much?_ He thinks desperately.

Falling forward with a silent groan, he ends up on his knees; tears streaming uncontrollably down his face, while blood leaks from a cut above his brow. Fire has been steadily eating away at his veins since entering the temple, invisible sparks shooting through him constantly.

It is hell in its purest form... and he is alone. Left to make a choice most would find impossible.

Let the world burn, or save it.

It sounds so simple. But after the last few years... Desmond can see the appeal in ending everything, in wiping the slate clean once and for all.

Forcing his head up a little, he looks at the glowing orb which holds the key to saving humanity with contempt. It pulses light mockingly, performing a macabre dance in front of him .

_Of course the Isu had to give their tech personality._

Both of them know he's a dead man, any energy he once had is draining out of him steadily. Leaving behind nothing but a burnt out husk, the shell of what he once was.

Coughing violently, he buckles further. Curling forward so his forearms rest on the floor, while a wave of nausea forces sick up his throat. Retching onto the cool marble under him, Desmond is taken aback to see blood mixed in with the rancid acid and half digested food.

Blinking desperately, he tries to clear his blurry vision. It doesn't work. Instead what he can make out of the world starts to bleed grey. The light emanating from above him sharpens, piercing through the fog of his dying senses, while the room's brightness becomes so overwhelming that he shuts his eyes in a vain attempt to block out the painful light.

 _Why isn't anything going to plan?_ He wants to scream.

He can't.

The words sit trapped by the numb, frozen gate his lips have become.

Arms shaking from the toll holding his body up has become, Desmond collapses sideways. Barely avoiding the puddle of sick, he lies on the floor twitching.

Shaking finally stilling after what feels like an age, he is so exhausted that he doesn't realize he is no longer alone in the room. Only twisting his head around to gape wide eyed at the other being when they whisper his name.

Minerva.

Flinching under the weight of her worried gaze, Desmond looks away from her face quickly. Instead tracing the outline of her figure, taking in every dip, every curve with detached curiosity.

“What... what... are you... doing here?” He forces out. It's barely a whisper, she can hear him anyway.

She doesn't reply immediately. Instead she glides over to his side, and kneels. The downward curl of her lip, and furrow between her brows the only hint of emotion on her face.

Eyes scanning his body critically she finally sighs in disappointment.

“This was not how your story was meant to end.”

“What-” A hacking cough interrupts his question.

“Hush...” She says soothingly, hand coming up to brush his hair out of his face before resting on his shoulder. “Do not waste what strength you have left Desmond. I have much to tell you, and there is not much time.” Pausing slightly she seems to be oddly amused by the last part of her statement, a inelegant snort escaping her.

Seeing his disbelieving stare at her behavior, Minerva winces.

“Isu are not emotionless Desmond, we are simply... older. Anyway, no matter how much we calculated, we still failed in the end.” Looking up at the glowing room a bitter smirk spreads on her lips. “And now all of this will decay, as our story is lost.”

Eyes fixed back on his face, she moves her hand up to comb through his hair. It makes him want to melt, the gesture is identical to how his mother would soothe him as a child after a nightmare.

Looking at the Isu woman gratefully he is startled to see a small smile settles on her lips as her eyes trace his face.

The tender expression is unexpected, and it makes him wonder if she ever lost anyone.

 _Perhaps when the great catastrophe took place?_ He muses silently.

Her eyes sharpen slightly when she no doubt spots his questioning gaze. The momentary flicker of vulnerability he found within snuffed out.

“Both humans and Isu lost people important to them during that time, no one escaped unscathed. Be that physically or emotionally.” She says, and while it isn't a chide; Desmond still feels foolish.

“Sorry.” He whispers, throat raw and rough.

“Shhh. Do not speak Desmond. I am not angered by your curiosity, it is in fact one of the most endearing facets of your character. Your stubbornness on the other hand...”

Seeing the slight smirk on his face, Minerva relaxes again; a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

“It has been the cause of many a heartfelt headache, of that I can assure you.” She says laughingly. Before a pulse from the orb makes her head snap up.

Shooting a dismissive glare at the technology, Minerva looks back at him with guilt plastered across her face.

“You have to touch the orb...” she murmurs.

Turning his head to the side he nuzzles her hand, trying to offer some comfort to the distressed woman.

“You'll die.” Coughing slightly she can't meet his startled gaze. “You will die if you touch it. Yet the act will save the world from the flare, humanity will go on never knowing how close they came to annihilation... everything will remain the same.”

More tears well in his eyes at the statement.

_Fuck._

Desmond had always assumed he wouldn't make it, but hearing it stated so bluntly cuts into what has remained of his tattered hope.

She continues speaking, musing quietly to herself; almost as if she has forgotten his presence.

“It was easy to account for your death to begin with. You were simply a human male, thousands of years in the future, just another figure in my calculations.” Eyes fixed back on his face, intense, begging him to understand.

When it becomes obvious that he's growing more confused, not suddenly comprehending what she is trying to tell him she snorts.

“I have grown fond of you Desmond. Well, not just you; your entire line. Altair, Ezio, Ratonhnhaké:ton, the others as well... all of you have sacrificed so much. Most of the others never truly learnt why, and yet every single one, without fail, kept pushing onward. Such promise was absent in my own people; so to see it your family has been the most humbling thing I have ever discovered.”

Opening his mouth to reply, Desmond instead lets out a stifled scream. The fire has returned, crashing down onto him; it courses through him violently. Burning him from the inside out. All he can do is lie on the floor and sob, as the agony makes him thrash uncontrollably.

It's Minerva's gentle voice which guides him through it. Coaxing what remains of his consciousness out of the dark recesses of his mind.

Gasping in a deep breathe, his eyes flicker open. Swimming momentarily before he finally focuses back on the woman sat with him. He is surprised to realize that his head now rests in her lap, while she hums quietly.

Meeting her gaze properly he opens his mouth and croaks. Unable to speak as he wants.

“Again, slowly. Your vocal chords are strained, if you push too hard nothing will come out.”

Nodding slightly Desmond focuses on relaxing his throat, and finally lets the words slip out.

“What's happening to me?”

“We both know what is happening to you Desmond. You are dying. Prolonged close proximity to the orb will do that to a human, it is only due to your bloodline that you are still alive.”

Huffing slightly he can't help but be amused by the dry, clinical way she said that. Especially considering the irritated frown that flickers across her face afterwards.

_Great bedside manner..._

“What am I meant to do?”

The question seems to throw her for a moment, before a fond grin lightens her demeanor.

“Go back in time.”

Seeing his disbelieving stare, the Isu woman throws her head back and laughs. It's sweet and bell like, completely different from the cold scientist he remembers her being the first time they talked.

“Time is not linear dear boy.” She says softly, one hand tracing down the sides of his face while the other continues to comb through his hair. “It is complex, layered... in many ways all of time is happening at once. It is how we are talking currently, both of us are in the temple; separated by thousands of years. Yet it is my hand in your hair, your head on my lap. When you know what to do, things like time seem trivial. Do you understand?”

Nodding slightly, Desmond watches her come alive as she explains the situation. Her passion for the subject is oddly endearing.

“If you take the orb you should be able to manipulate it to take you back, granted you will be altered. But at your core? You will always be Desmond Miles, the runaway assassin who is willing to do whatever it takes to save the world.”

Spotting his disgruntled frown, she huffs slightly in amusement. “No matter how tired of its nonsense you become.” She adds grinning down at him cheekily.

Looking up at her searchingly Desmond feels hope bloom within his chest. Warm, and comforting it makes a slight smile twitch his lips upwards.

“I'll do it.”

"I must warn you, your family, friends, this entire timeline will not exist anymore. There will be no chance to contact them, and the only remnant of this world will be in your memories. Are you willing to sacrifice it all for a chance at fixing everything?”

Pausing in his attempt to stand Desmond frowns. Flashes of his brother laughing at another successful prank, his sister crying because some of the other kids stole her teddy bear, and his mother reading to him as a small child, pass through his mind.

More events and people pass by rapidly, reminding him of all that he would be giving up. Before finally settling on the last thing Ezio ever said to him "maybe you will be the one to make all this suffering worth something in the end." Ezio had looked so tired, so worn down. It makes his heart ache when remembering the arrogant, fun, young man he once was. He had gotten so few answers, and had suffered so much so Desmond could fulfill his purpose. Yet here he was, about to erase all that hard work.

It leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, while the cold press of the marble floor leaches any feeling of warmth from him.

Steeling himself he stands, feeling steady for the first time since he was put in an animus. The voices of those that came before settled, all in agreement, all him.

Turning to the woman who has been watching over him he lets a warm grin steal across his face. For the first time fully embracing the charm which Ezio had in overabundance, he kisses her hand before quietly saying "thank you."

Tilting his head he stubbornly ignores the pain rushing through him. "I suppose this is goodbye." The final word rings in his ears, like a church bell in Firenze.

“Good luck Desmond.”

Glancing at the now standing woman, he winces; hand coming up to press against his stinging ribs.

“Where will I go?”

“To the place you will have the largest impact.”

“Ezio...”

“Yes.”

Turning away from her he steps towards the orb shakily, only halting when a hesitant hand is placed on his shoulder.

“Wait... Desmond.” Swallowing nervously Minerva looks down at him with wide, expressive eyes. “There will be something waiting for you in Firenze, a precursor if you will. They should be able to help, but promise me you'll be careful.”

Silence stretches between them, while he contemplates if he can actual make such a vow. Finally he smiles humorlessly. “I promise I shall do my best.”

The weak smile he receives for his answer is reassuring. They both know he's lying, but the Isu woman won't call him on it.

Looking at her familiar eyes once more, he nods sharply. A wealth of unspoken words lay silent in the space between them, while a cloak of destiny rests on his shoulders.

Stepping forward his eyes are fixed on the orb, taking in the aura the powerful artifact emanates. Left hand steady he reaches out and (releasing one final breath) places it on the glowing sphere.

* * *

White fades in around him, leaving him in what looks like an animus loading screen.

“Hello?” He shouts, confused and disoriented.

Walking forward he is shocked when the lack of pain, of weariness hits him. He feels great. Like he used to before Abstergo, and the constant sleepless nights while on the run.

“Welcome Desmond Miles. This is the central command center for the Isu artifact labelled 'Earth's last hope', what would you have us do?”

Startled he looks around, he's alone.

Trying to clear his head, he closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing; letting his vision bleed grey he stumbles back. Overwhelmed by the rapidly moving columns of numbers continuously racing all around him.

Hurriedly turning the ability off, he blinks several times as his vision clears.

“What the hell?”

“Welcome Desmond Miles. This is the central command center for the Isu artifact-”

“Yes I heard you the first time. Let me think for a moment.” He snaps.

_I have to get to Ezio's time, fix things..._

“Okay change the world, kill some people. How hard can it be?” He mumbles desperately.

“Do you wish for me to calculate the chance of failure during your mission, sir? Based on the data I already have available, I can inform you it is reasonably high.”

“Thank you but no... um. I want to be transported back to when my ancestor Ezio Auditore was alive.

“Any preference for when in his life you want to head Mr. Miles.”

“When he was seventeen, before he got his scar on the bridge.”

“Certainly sir.”

Light overtakes the area, blinding him once more. Making him feel weightless and without form. Hand coming up before his face he realizes that he looks like the Isu projections he's encountered in the past, present yet faded.

Fascinated he watches as his body slowly starts to reform itself around his 'soul'. It doesn't feel the same. It's sturdier, less breakable than it once was. When the process reaches his neck he tenses.

Awareness of the pain involved in growing new muscles, and organs has finally reached his consciousness.

Lapsing out of reality, Desmond sinks into his memories to cope. Eventually re-watching old family Christmases isn't enough of a distraction, agony leaking into the picture as thin wisps of smoke. Tendrils reaching out to him. They wrap around his body before sinking into his very being.

All he can do is silently scream as his mind is forced into corporeal form.

Retreating further and further within himself, Desmond finally finds a dark corner undisturbed by the ongoing torture. It reminds him of the serene image the world makes when seen with his gift.

He is taken aback when he realizes that smokey tendrils swirl in this part of his mind as well. However instead of slowly chasing after him like the grasping echo's of agony. This smoke simply twirls through the space with a lackadaisical quality which reminds Desmond of the cat he once adopted.

Curious he follows one such swirl, laughing delightedly when it spins around his arm. Brushing against him it feels like a feather, soft and faint. It makes a slight smile tug at his lips.

More and more grey smoke swirls settle on him as time passes until, finally, he is cocooned. Wrapped in a comforting, if strange, embrace.

Sitting on the floor of his mind, Desmond lets himself relax. Worn out by recent events, and needing rest; he slips into sleep easily.

Only to be tentatively shaken awake by a firm hand on his arm.

Rubbing grit from his eyes, he sits up. Adjusting slowly to the sunlight streaming onto his face, warming his front. It takes a moment before he notices the man knelt besides him.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze. In the flesh. Watching him with narrowed, suspicious, eyes.

Running a hand through his hair he nods to the younger man in thanks when he is offered a hand. Standing quickly, he doesn't think when he lets a quiet “thank you Ezio” slip past his lips.

Freezing he watches as the other man rather than demand answers smirks smugly.

“Desmond I assume, we have a lot to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all like the changes I made to this chapter.  
> It would be really helpful to know what you all think, so please feel free to leave a comment below!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, edit done! 
> 
> I have been blown away by the positive reaction to this Fic, thank you to everyone leaving kudos and commenting! It is awesome to know that people like the story and want to see where it's headed.
> 
> Warnings:  
> None (if you see anything I should add here please tell me).

_ What the hell? _

Desmond doesn't know what to do, and the person responsible is thousands of years out of reach.

“Un-fucking believable... there'll be something waiting,  **something** . Not someone!” he rants, kicking a stone that had until that point rested by his foot on the roof.

Letting a long suffering sigh out, he runs his hand through his hair; before finally turning around to look at the other assassin.

“What?” he snaps.

“Nothing, mi amico. Simply admiring your tonal range, I do believe you just hit three different octaves.” Ezio answers, a sly grin stealing across his face when Desmond blinks at him in surprise.

Looking at the youthful face of his ancestor, Desmond is lost. A bone deep weight dragging him down, while fog clouds his head.

He's stood in the middle of an impossible situation, with no guideline. Focusing back on the other man, it finally registers that he is looking down at him.

_ Well that is unexpected...  _ He thinks absently.

The change isn't enormous an inch or so, but it feels odd to be in a body that's taller than he's used to. Disconcerting.

Almost like a dream, where one small detail is different and alerts him to the truth. 

Unfortunately there's no waking from his current reality; he is stuck, and the only person he can blame is himself.

“Changes huh?” he mutters. 

Eyes raking over his body as he takes in the physical differences his Isu influenced form have taken on. They aren't numerous, but they are noticeable: the height for one, more muscle mass, a strange black and white tattoo which glimmers trailing up his left arm...

_ The Isu must have two modes; overly dramatic, and understating out of curiosity over people's reactions.  _ He thinks, snorting when an image of Minerva stood with a clipboard ticking boxes labelled  _ threw a fit _ , and  _ sulked for half an hour and  _ popped into his head.

Glancing around he realizes that he was dumped on a random rooftop... in the middle of Firenze. Growling in annoyance, his attention snaps back to focus on Ezio when he hears the other man chuckle.

“What?”

“You are very expressive.” Is the only answer he is given, provoking a deeper scowl to steal across his face.

Sighing, he forces his posture to relax, smoothing out the furrowed lines marring his face until all that remains is a blank mask.

“How do you know my name?” he asks, curious despite his still bubbling annoyance.

“How do you know mine?”

Letting a deadened look of annoyance flash across his face, Desmond is mildly amused to see Ezio shift in discomfort.

“We need to move locations if we are to discuss anything more serious than a brothel visit. Follow me,” the other assassin finally adds, before promptly turning on his heel and bolting towards a church tower in the distance.

Watching him run it takes a moment for his words to register. When they do, Desmond sprints after him, a reluctantly amused snort escaping him as he follows the form of his agile ancestor over the rooftops of Renaissance Firenze.

_ Best assassin ever my ass, he should quit while he's ahead and join the theater.  _ He thinks, leaping across an alleyway automatically; body falling into the task of following Ezio like it's what it was made to do.

Knowing Minerva, he wasn't ruling out the possibility.

* * *

Climbing the church was... interesting.

He'd always assumed that the animus sped up the process to not bore him, but that idea had been thoroughly demolished. 

Activating his Eagle Vision, he smiles wistfully when the layout of the town beneath them filters into his mind. Alleyways, shops, and people suddenly laid out plainly in his mind; it's just as thrilling as the first time.

He has a feeling it always will be.

Ezio coughing breaks his concentration, and color bleeds back into the world instantly. Turning to look at the other man questioningly, Desmond is startled by the serious expression painted on his face.

“We have much to discuss,” Ezio says somberly. Sitting at the edge of the roof causally, a gesture towards the space beside him the only indication he gives that he wants Desmond to join him.

Sighing, Desmond nods. “We do.” 

Neither man knows where to begin. An awkward, heavy silence filling the area around them. Both watching the people below going about their everyday lives, with a casual openness neither assassin have been afforded for many many years.

“How did you come back?” Desmond finally asks, curiosity overwhelming his need to keep quiet.

“I do not truly know.” The frown that flickers across Ezio's face is dark, a flash of fury which disappears too fast to be deciphered. “I was leaving the library to join Sophia when the world fell into darkness. A voice told me I was being gifted a second chance, and the next thing I am aware of is awakening in my family's Palazzo...” smirking joylessly he glances at Desmond. “I thought it to be a dream.”

“I can understand that... it was wrong for your situation to be handled that way,” Desmond says. “I arrived here due to Minerva, she was the figure under the Vatican.” He explains quietly, a tired sigh leaving him when he trails off.

“Yes, I remember.”

“You do not sound pleased.”

“I am not fond of beings who manipulate my family and fate.”

“That is a sentiment I fully understand, and agree with.”

Lapsing into silence the pair sit pondering the lives they left behind.

Shifting in place, Ezio sighs. Tilting his head in the direction of his home, almost as if he is trying to spot his family going about their chores in the Palazzo. It leaves a hollow ache in Desmond’s chest as he considers the shock the other man must have experienced... seeing them again after decades of knowing them to be dead.

“They don’t realize the danger they are in.”

The words are softly spoken, almost a whisper. 

It makes Desmond wince. The pain sounds raw, real, and he is unused to dealing with another person’s grief; his own is enough of a burden.

“They don’t,” he finally agrees. “But you and I do. Believe me when I say that I never want to see them at the end of a rope. It was a terrible event, and now we have a chance to prevent it.” Not knowing what else to add, Desmond falls silent. 

Ezio’s grimace is not comforting.

“Did you see all of my life?”

The question is unexpected. It makes Desmond shift in place, uncomfortable with the topic change.

“Not all, no.”

“How much?”

“A lot.”

“That’s not a real answer.”

“I don’t feel like giving you one.”

The harshness of Desmond’s voice makes both men start in surprise. Ezio looks at the other man wearily, while Desmond is suddenly extremely aware of the throbbing headache building behind his eyes.

Sighing, he mutters “sorry.” Slumping down to sit besides Ezio, his eyes remain fixed on the street below while he offers an explanation. “I saw most of your adult life, all the love, death, travel… it was magical when compared to my own. I do not like being reminded of the time I’ve left behind.”

“How far have you traveled back?” 

Ezio’s curiosity makes Desmond chuckle.

“Five hundred years, give or take a bit.”

“You are surprisingly calm for a man displaced so far.”

“And you are surprisingly accepting of time travel.”

“True. However, I have found that it is better to accept the implausible then call everything I do not understand impossible. After all, I know Leonardo.”

“That is a shockingly good point… when did you become wise?”

“Age will do that.”

“You’re seventeen.”

And you’re an idiot.”

At that Desmond throws his head back and laughs loudly, taken off guard by the casually thrown insult. Grinning, Ezio watches the other man calm himself slowly. 

Sobering slightly, Desmond looks at the man sat next to him. “What are we doing here Ezio?”

“Changing things I suppose?”

“There’s two of us.”

“We’ll manage.”

Staring at the man in disbelief, Desmond shakes his head in exasperation. Only he gets launched back in time with the most bull headed assassin to ever exist as company. 

“How will we explain my sudden presence to your family?”

“You could be a friend, someone who has helped me in the past. Perhaps you are now down on your luck? Maybe you were robbed, and have nowhere to go.”

Tilting his head to the side Desmond thought over the idea. It seems logical, definitely better than hiding in one of the assassin crypts.

Nodding his head he smiles at the man next to him, “let’s go with that. We should be able to build a believable lie around that idea.”

Looking horribly smug, Ezio smirks; happy with his idea being followed.

Seeing the expression Desmond groans, “shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> mi amico - my friend


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> Now that I've edited this chapter, I'm even more in love with the Auditore family... lol. They're simply a delight to write.  
> No warnings this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sat across from Lorenzo de’ Medici, Giovanni Auditore lets a frustrated groan slip past his lips.

The other man is proud, and worried. It makes for a tiresome combination to deal with… especially when running on very few hours of sleep.

“Lorenzo, you have made your feelings clear. I am simply choosing to ignore them.”

“I am not saying that you shouldn’t proceed, merely asking you to be more cautious.”

“Cautious?” Scoffing, Giovanni looks at the other man as if he is insane. “I have been cautious for too long. The threat spreads like a plague, if it is not culled soon… I will not be responsible for the Templars taking control of everything.”

A heavy silence sits between them. The reality of the situation stifling the goodwill in their relationship.

In these beats of nothingness, they are only two things:

Judge, and executioner.

In typical Medici fashion, Lorenzo talks first. Filling the room with his unavoidable, disapproving, voice. “At the very least don’t be overly rash, you are the only person in this snake pit that I know doesn’t want my position.”

Grinning faintly, Giovanni chuckles. “Rash, me? That is a cruel simplification my friend.”

“Diving into the Arno, after a child you don’t know, isn’t exactly the behavior of a rational man Auditore.”

“I regret nothing.”

“I would be offended if you did; but the point still stands.”

Jaw clenched, and eyes narrowed, Giovanni gives one staccato nod. Irritation clear all over his usually undecipherable face.

“Happy as I am that you are finally seeing sense… what were you thinking?” Lorenzo asks; incredulous amusement making his voice waver.

“I had to reach the target.”

“You pushed several horses, not to mention yourself, to exhaustion.”

“The mission was time sensitive.”

“And your ability to perform it successfully was impacted by your lack of care for your own health.”

“I care.”

“And I shit gold,” Lorenzo says.

Deciding to change the topic before the other man tries to tactfully flee, Lorenzo gestures towards the drinks table in the corner of the room. “Wine?”

“I could have a glass.”

* * *

Grinning at the man stood awkwardly next to him, Ezio tries not to laugh. Realizing this is impossible, he lets go. Waves of mirth crash through his veins.

Desmond’s miserable pout simply eggs on his merriment. The man looks horrified at the prospect of entering the tailors before them, almost as if the mere thought causes him physical pain.

Taking in the worn state of his clothes?

Ezio isn’t ruling it out as a possibility.

Wrestling control of his laughter away from the prankster demon possessing him, he lets a smirk remain on his face.

“You need to blend in, especially when you meet my kin.”

Grimacing, the other man shoots him an unimpressed glance. “I know.”

The blunt reply makes Ezio huff in amusement. “Do you not enjoy shopping?”

“I don’t like people.”

“You like me.”

Scoffing, Desmond turns fully to look at Ezio in disbelief. “What makes you think that?”

“You have not run away yet.”

Before the other man can seriously consider doing just that, Ezio latches onto his arm and drags him into the store.

Flashing a careless smile at the seamstresses, he shoves Desmond towards them.

“He needs a wardrobe’s worth of clothing,” Ezio says bluntly; before spinning on his heel and jogging away.

The faint sound of Desmond knocking something over echoes behind him, making a smirk slip onto his face.

Ezio is quickly realizing that the other man, while most likely formidable, is a complete mess.

It is hilarious.

* * *

Running through the streets, headed for his home, Ezio relaxes. The beat of the road beneath his feet, and heat baking his back is familiar… safe. It lets him lower walls that subconsciously slammed up when confronted with an unknown assassin.

A pleasant burn in his lungs, heats his chest. As the rumble of a city in motion makes a happy chuckle loosen in his throat.

Slowing to a jog as he reaches his street, he revels in how fresh he still is. Muscles coiled and ready to sprint. So different from the weary ache which once tugged at his scars, that it makes his head spin.

Coming to a stop in the courtyard, he winces when a cough sounds behind him. Turning around he is confronted with his mother, her expression is… carefully blank.  
  
“Ezio. Follow me,” she says. Before gliding away from him briskly, refusing him the chance to ask what the problem is.

Swallowing, he follows her. A ball of worry roiling in his gut when she heads straight towards the library.

_Shit,_ he thinks.

Watching her sit herself delicately on one of the armchairs, Ezio fights a smile. She’s vibrant, alive in a way he’d almost forgotten she could be.

_I will not let them ruin you_.

Overjoyed as he is at her spirit, Ezio fails to notice her calculating gaze taking in the small twitches of his face.

Blinking, he focuses back on her when the silence between them grows uncomfortable.

“Mother… what is wrong?”

No reply.

Maria Auditore only ever became silent when grieving, or so furious that saying anything would cause an explosion the likes of Vesuvius. It makes him wary, and regretful of leaving Desmond.

“Where have you been sneaking to at night?”

“Nowhere.” The denial is automatic, and rings so incredibly false he wants to curl in on himself out of embarrassment.

“Ezio.”

Sighing, he looks at the floor. “A friend of mine has been hit with a rough situation. We did not want to worry anyone, so I have been helping him discreetly.”

“What kind of… situation?” The emphasis his mother puts on the final word is disconcerting, as if she already knows his answer.

“He was attacked upon entering the city, and robbed. With no living relatives I thought I could help.”

“You have not mentioned any new acquaintances.”

“He… well,” coughing Ezio blushes lightly. “He got me out of a tough spot with some guards, it could have caused issues for father so I decided not to tell anyone.”

“What did you do Ezio?” Maria’s tired tone makes him flush brighter.

“I didn’t realize she was engaged…”

“EZIO!”

“It’s the truth!”

Groaning Maria touches her forehead, no doubt trying to preemptively clear the headache Ezio is causing. It doesn’t work.

“Where is your friend?” she asks.

Clearing his throat, Ezio turns to look out the window. “He’s at the tailors close to the square.”

“You left him,” she deadpans.

“I needed to get money.”

“Did you explain where you were headed, or did you just leave him there alone?”

“He’s not alone…”

Looking heavenward for guidance, Maria sighs. “You will take me with you, I will meet your friend, and then we will try to sort this situation out. Understood?”

“Yes mother.”

Shooing her son towards his room, Maria wonders what she did to deserve such a chaotic son… _perhaps it was saying yes to Giovanni’s proposal._

* * *

“I’m not wearing that!”

Alarm is the primary emotion coursing through Desmond, followed closely by mildly homicidal rage.

Idly, he wonders if he’ll be removed from existence if Ezio dies a few decades early.

Before he can start to seriously consider the option, he gets smacked on the back of the head.

“What the…” looking around, he blinks in surprise when he spots the grinning girl stood behind him. Claudia.

“You’re not going to kill my brother are you?” her tone is innocent, sweet, completely opposite to the devilish spark in her eyes. “It’s just he has to punish someone for me before anything of the sort is allowed.”

Stumped as to what to say, Desmond feels a hysterical laugh build in his throat. _Of course she’s here,_ he thinks.

Breaks were invented to taunt him, and her face is a perfect way to do so.

She’d always stood out in Ezio’s memories. Even when slumped over the Monteriggioni books, sobbing silently, she always managed to look dignified.

It wouldn’t, couldn’t, be any different when she was publicly discussing her brother raining hell on her unsuspecting suitor.

Blinking, he tilts his head in confusion when she giggles.

“Why do you think I want to harm him?” he asks. Ignoring the niggling voice in the back of his head murmuring that he did in fact want to harm his ancestor moments ago.

“He just shoved you in here, probably with no explanation since it is Ezio. I would be furious if I were you.”

“Saw that did you?” he asks dryly.

The amused once over she gives him is unsettling. “The entire street saw, only half care but still…”

“Half?”

“The rest are used to my brothers being stupid.”

Snorting at the little lady’s words, Desmond can’t fight his grin. “If I am not allowed to hurt him, what do you suggest?”

“Let me torment him.”

“Why?”

“I’m bored.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes.”

An incredulous laugh escapes him easily, as a charming grin slips onto his face. “Fine.”

Smiling brightly, Claudia’s eyes flash when they fix on a person behind him. _Devil in disguise_ , he thinks absently. A smirk curling his lip when she winks at him jokingly, before stepping forward to stand next to him.

The words “hello brother,” leave her as Desmond’s laughing eyes meet the panicked, glazed ones of his ancestor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a massive pain in my ass. Funnily enough it was also my favorite to write so far. It was great to explore some "new" characters, especially Giovanni. I have this headcannon that he's a complete dumb-ass who's only survived through sheer Auditore luck. Basically meaning that they destroy everything, get stabbed, fall off a building, and then somehow walk away fine. Usually in the direction of a brothel.  
> Of course this also applies to Desmond so Maria is gonna have her hands full (I almost feel bad for her). Any feedback would be appreciated, and I feel like a broken record but Thank you to everyone who has commented on this story. It is amazing to see the positive response, and it is honestly making me smile each time I look through it!!!  
> Also Claudia is a scary lady and I have no regrets in regard to making her an absolute brat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone! 
> 
> So I've officially completed my edit/rewrite of the chapters. Happy news, now I can focus on pushing this story onward. I've definitely left you all wondering what happens next for far too long!
> 
> Warnings: Panic attack  
> No others (that I can think of), if you see anything I should add please tell me.
> 
> Enjoy!

Claudia immediately commandeering Ezio’s attention, makes Desmond laugh. The other man just quietly conceding, makes it worse.

There’s something beautiful about the picture they paint, young, vibrant, and brash. Ezio might have been dragged through time, but he’s been given something he lost; his family.

Smiling wistfully, as he watches them glide around the store, Desmond can’t contain his laughter when Claudia’s demand that Ezio ‘defend her honor’, floats to where he is stood.

It’s a bratty comment, one a lesser girl would have faced censure for saying.

But Claudia is a force of nature, wrapped in stays, and no one wants to shatter her world view.

“Are they always like this?” he asks, glancing at the Auditore matriarch stood beside him.

“Not always…” she muses. Tilting her head Maria looks at her children, a small smile tugging at her lips as she takes them in. “Often enough that I no longer try to correct them.”

Tactfully ignoring that last bit, Desmond turns to her smiling.

“Apologies signora, I just realized, I have not introduced myself. Desmond Miles.” Taking her hand, he kisses it chastely; chuckling at the frustrated groan which Ezio suddenly lets out from behind a shelf.

“I do not think I have heard Ezio so irritated before,” he says. “Your daughter has a talent.”

“That is one way of putting it,” Maria says idly.

“A quickly mind will serve her well.”

The dubious look Maria sends his way makes him grin. “I mean that, better she’s intelligent if a bit spirited than dull as a wooden block.”

Lip twitching, the Auditore woman looks at him contemplatively. Whatever she finds seems to please her, and they settle into an easy silence.

The constant static which had buzzing in the back of his mind is quiet. The pin prickles which had danced across his skin since first entering an Animus… gone.

Desmond doesn’t know what to make of it; his head feels light at the change, as if a massive weight has been lifted.

Sighing, he shifts his focus. “What brought you to the store today signora?” he asks idly; hoping to distract himself from the disconcerting feeling.

“Ezio.” Spotting the questioning expression which crosses his face, she elaborates. “It was wrong of him to leave you here. I came along to ensure he didn’t just abandon you.”

“No matter how much of a… well. No matter how difficult he can be, I don’t think Ezio would ever truly abandon a friend… he’s too loyal.”

It’s the right thing to say, Maria smiling brightly at him when the last awkward sentence tumbles past his lips.

“That’s kind of you.”

“It’s true,” he refutes gently.

“Speaking of such things, Ezio mentioned you’ve been have a rough time recently…” Maria says.

Wincing he tilts his head down, looking at the floor awkwardly.

Clearing his throat he glances at her uncertainly. “Yes, there was an incident with a thief when I first came to Firenze; Ezio was kind enough to help me. You’ve raised a fine man signora.”

“Thank you Mr. Miles.”

“Desmond please, when I hear my last name I start searching for my father.”

“Desmond then,” Maria agrees kindly. “But your situation is now improved?” she asks.

“It is getting there, slowly. I fear it won’t be as it once was, but perhaps that isn’t a bad thing,” he says. Quiet conviction lacing each word, startling the Auditore matriarch.

Humming in agreement, she watches him contemplatively.

Coughing, Desmond sends a smile her way; before shaking his head in amusement when Ezio comes crashing back to stand beside him. Grumbling irritably about ‘annoying sister shaped demons.’

“You look flustered mi amico, what’s wrong?” he asks, smirking broadly when the other man shoots him a dirty look.

“Nothing.”

“He’s angry at me,” Claudia says bluntly. Drifting elegantly over to stand before them.

“Why would he be angry?” Desmond asks, chuckling when Ezio looks at him despairingly.

“Because I want him to help me.”

“Are you being dismissive of your sister Ezio?” Maria asks, eyebrow arched.

“Wha… Mother!” Ezio protests, a long-suffering groan escaping him when Claudia starts to giggle.

“That’s not very nice,” Desmond admonished with false helpfulness. Winking at the little lady when her brother isn’t looking, it only makes her laugh harder.

The glare the other man sends his way is deadly; unfortunately for Ezio, Desmond is feeling shameless and simply grins at him.

“Something to say Ezio?” he asks calmly.

“Oh, there are several things I would like to say. But I don’t feel like causing a scene… at the moment.”

“That is a shame.”

Claudia giggling diverts his attention. “Anything in particular making you laugh this time?” he asks her.

“Just, seeing Ezio out of his depth. It’s very amusing,” she states. Giggling harder when instead of admonishing her Desmond simply smiles smugly.

“Desmond…” Maria says, waiting for them to calm down.

“Yes signora?”

“Would you be willing to escort Claudia home? I fear what will happen if I leave her and Ezio alone together,” she says dryly.

“I’m sure the city would survive, but it would be an honor,” he agrees. Grinning cheekily at the softly smiling matriarch.

“I can’t say I agree,” she says; a teasing glint in her eyes making her look years younger.

Turning to look a at the youngest Auditore present, Desmond bows, winking at her when she curtsy’s back.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering his arm.

“We shall,” she says decidedly. Resting her hand lightly in the crook of his arm.

Nodding goodbye to Ezio and Maria, Desmond starts to guide Claudia from the building. Sharing a look filled with laughter with the little lady, when they hear Maria scold Ezio for his ‘improper behavior.’

* * *

“You could have helped me.”

Smirking, Desmond snaps the book he’s reading shut. “Hello Ezio, did you have a nice bonding experience with your mother?”

“Vaffanculo!”

“No need to be rude,” he says. A mischievous glimmer in his eyes giving away his mirth.

“Stop being a pest then,” Ezio snaps.

“You deserved it,” Desmond says calmly.

Knowing the other man has a point, Ezio collapses onto the chair besides Desmond. A sigh escaping him, as the tension from lying to his mother leaves him.

“this is more difficult than I first imagined it would be,” he finally explains.

“What part?” Desmond asks, turning to look fully at the other man. “The constant lying to your family; or that you’ve traveled back in time, and are working with your descendant to stop the end of the world.”

“Sta’ zitto.”

“No,” Desmond says sharply. “I will not stop telling you the truth simply because it makes you uncomfortable. There was a reason I wasn’t jumping up and down in joy when I saw you had come back as well, you deserved to rest and-“

“Of course I came back! It’s my family,” the other man interrupts, a stubborn frown set in the lines of his face.

Sighing, Desmond drops his face into his hands; grumbling quietly about ‘stupid ancestors.’

Looking up at Ezio, he frowns. “That is the only reason I haven’t done something I’ll come to regret.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was supposed to come back, you were supposed to be spared the shit you lived. Now you’re being dragged through it again!”

The dumbfound silence which stretches between them makes Desmond shift in discomfort.

“Honestly Ezio, what is the point in me trying to prevent everything when…” he cuts himself off quickly.

“When it’s already broken.”

Wincing, Desmond looks away from the piercing gaze of the other assassin. “You are not broken,” he says.

The derisive snort Ezio lets out is telling.

“Really?” The question is dry, harsh. It reminds Desmond starkly of the fact that despite Ezio’s youthful appearance, he is a man grown. Experienced in life, haunted by both its joy and pain.

“Really,” he says firmly.

“That is a pleasant surprise.”

“How so?”

“I’ve noticed that life tends to leave long scars,” Ezio states.

“I suppose, but a scar is proof of an injury that has healed.”

Ezio lets out a surprised bark of laughter. “that is a refreshing outlook.”

“I do try,” Desmond says, grinning slightly.

“I’ve noticed.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know,” Ezio says dryly.

Snorting, Desmond glances at the other man incredulously. “I don’t actually.”

“I’m sure you’ll working it out eventually.”

“Ezio…”

“Desmond,” Ezio drawls.

“You are a child.”

“The ladies would disagree with that assessment, mi amico.”

After a moment of silence, in which they stare at one another straight faced, they burst out laughing. The tension which had built up during their conversation shattering completely.

Still chuckling quietly, Desmond gets up and wanders out onto the balcony. Taking in the beauty of renaissance Firenze with wide eyes, blown away by what he sees. He doesn’t react when Ezio joins him, simply continuing with his perusal.

“it’s magnificent,” he finally says; eyes still locked on the view.

Ezio hums in agreement, the fond expression on his face saying more about his love of the city than any words ever could.

“Does the world look different in your time?” he finally asks, looking at the tall man stood beside him.

“Yes.” Desmond says, a pensive expression crossing his face. “Buildings are bigger, taller, made of steel and glass. It’s beautiful in a way, but very utilitarian. I remember often thinking it was a step down in aesthetics compared to how the world looks now.”

“I can’t imagine it,” Ezio admits.

“I am not surprised. It sounds fantastical when this is the only reference point available,” Desmond says; nodding towards the sprawling city before them thoughtfully. "Although, Leonardo might be able to draw it, if I described it in detail to him.”

Chuckling, Ezio shakes his head. “If we ever tell Leo we will be trapped in his workshop for days while he questions us.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Desmond asks, finally tearing his eyes from the view. Looking at the other man with arched eyebrows.

“Not necessarily, but we can’t afford to waste time currently.

“That is true,” Desmond concedes.

Comfortable silence settles between them, the bustle of the city below them the only sound they can hear. It’s soothing, listening to the voices of thousands of people going about their day drifting in the warm air.

“When shall we deal with Uberto?” Desmond finally asks.

Something shifts above them, tiny pieces of stone crumbling.

“Tonight.”

Something tilts, a grinding sound reaching the assassins.

Desmond turns slightly, listening. He looks up.

“Ezio move!” he shouts in alarm. Shoving the other man out of the way, as a statue plummets towards them.

His arms come up in a futile attempt to stop the marble block.

His eyes flicker closed.

He braces.

He catches it.

Blinking in surprise, he drops the statue. It’s weight makes a crack appear in the balcony floor. Shocked, he simply stands there. Gaping at the marble which should have killed him.

“What the hell?” he mutters, gaze catching on the dumbfound look on Ezio’s face.

“What the hell?” he says louder. Breath coming in sharp, short, inhalations.

Panic flooding his veins.

“I should be dead,” he says emptily. His body feels cumbersome and ill made, as if it is made of wax which has melted.

His panic shakes Ezio out of the silent stupor he’d fallen into.

The other man suddenly standing in front of Desmond, a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Come on Desmond, breathe.”

“I… can’t,” he forces out. Mind racing with possibilities, throat tight, stomach churning, it takes all of his control not to vomit.

“I should be dead,” he forces out.

Ezio’s hand goes from griping his shoulder, to grasping his face firmly. Forcefully tilting Desmond’s face to he has to focus on him.

“Look at me, Breathe.”

Seeing the Desmond’s hopeless, pained, vague expression; he huffs in exasperation.

“You’ll thank me for this mi amico,” he says quietly.

Ezio… what?”

Desmond’s question is interrupted by the other man punching him.

“Ow! What the fuck Ezio!” he shouts angrily, shoving the other man into the wall.

The only response he gets is a smug grin.

His fear and panic is replaced by irritation, the shaking in his hands forgotten.

“Why did… oh.” He’s panting, but his throat doesn’t feel as tight. His chest no longer aches.

Ezio distracted him.

Swallowing thickly, he murmurs “thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, you’d have done the same for me,” Ezio says surely. Coming to stand beside the still agitated but calmer Desmond.

They both look down at the statue, faces set in similar looks of concentration, eyes flashing gold.

“This is insane, even by our standards,” Desmond says quietly. Glancing at the still thinking (ex?) mentor.

“I concur. Although, I wonder…” trailing off he ignores the questioning look Desmond sends his way. Instead stepping forward, he grasps the statue firmly and lifts.

“Merda! That’s heavy,” he huffs; quickly putting the thing back down.

Looking at the other man, he grins slightly. “Seems you are not as special as we thought.”

The deadpan glare Desmond sends his way, simply makes his grin grow.

“Yes, because two assassins displaced in time being unusually strong is just a common occurrence.”

“totally,” Ezio agrees, completely straight faced.

“Maria? I’m home!”

The call makes both men freeze.

“Is that your father?” Desmond asks warily.

“Yes.”

Will we be able to get away if he spots us?”

Not likely.”

Silently the two men share a long look. Ezio tilts his head towards the city, and Desmond nods.

Simultaneously both turn, pulling their hoods up, and leap off the balcony.

Quickly making their way across the rooftops, racing towards the home of their first target: Uberto Alberti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Vaffanculo! - Go fuck yourself/fuck off!  
> Sta' zitto. - Shut up  
> mi amico - my friend  
> Merda! - Shit!
> 
> So... I'm just casually learning Italian now, and I don't know how it happened. One moment I'm googling swear words the next I'm working on Duolingo. 
> 
> Ezio and Desmond are developing individual voices and I love it! Although they are starting to demand I head certain directions, and I'm sat here going "no I have a plot; you can't go to the brothel Ezio!"
> 
> Please feel free to comment!  
> I love finding out what you all think!


End file.
